


King of Night

by fizzfooz



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bad Ending, Body Horror, Brainwashing, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Feral Behavior, M/M, Nonconathon Treat, Rape/Non-con Elements, Starscourge-Infected Noctis Lucis Caelum, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-04-06 08:11:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19058698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzfooz/pseuds/fizzfooz
Summary: Noctis is infected with the starscourge. Bad ending.





	King of Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VenatorNoctis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenatorNoctis/gifts).



Gladio failed when he was too slow.

_They went in underprepared and dog-tired. Overconfident, cause that's how they usually fought these days. Ignis tried to tell Noct the hunt could wait but once he'd read what had happened at Saxham Outpost that wasn't gonna happen. Sentimental like always. But he used logic, not emotion to convince them. They needed the money, he reasoned, exactly because they were low on potions. And it was only bussemands. They'd killed hundreds before._

_So they waited in Saxham Outpost – Prompto jumping at every little noise and making half-serious, half-joking comments about creepy child ghosts – for night to fall. They could have taken the bussemands and hobgoblins without breaking a sweat. But dozens of those damn imps appeared right on top of them and they had a habit of getting into Gladio's blind spots._

_Noct being faster than him had always been an issue. He couldn't protect someone that was a mile away from him, warping around like he had a death wish. Usually, Ignis compensated for that. But usually, Ignis wasn't being swarmed by imps, stumbling as he slashed at them. And usually, Prompto was providing some kind of long-range support but the hobgoblins had him surrounded. Gladio was using every crowd-clearing attack in his arsenal. Bashing his shield and swinging his sword. Some of the big guys fell, others dodged but the imps jumped over and under his sword, digging their claws and teeth deep into his leg. A bussemand leapt and got in his business so he brought his sword down right on top of its head._

_But by then he had an imp on each shoulder. No peripheral vision. And another bussemand musta gotten behind him because the next thing he knew his vision had blinked out and he was pitching forward into the dirt, imps scrambling all over him, tearing and biting at anything they could reach. One of the remaining bussemands tore a handful of them off and flung them away so it could go to town on Gladio's exposed back. The other landed a flurry of fists on him that made him scream like imps had crawled down his throat and were clawing him from the inside-out. His organs were gonna be soup of this kept up. He grabbed for his weapons but the other bussemand stamped down on his hands and while he escaped broken hands, it made his fingers open on reflex and the imps were back, slicing into his bruises._

_Noct warped between both bussemands like a glowing blue ping-pong ball. Took them out in a way that woulda made Gladio proud if he hadn't then summoned a potion – their last potion – into his hand._

_“No!” But before he could get any other words out – it wasn't that bad, it looked worse than it was, he was gonna get back up in second – Noct had smashed it over him. He didn't have time to chew him out for it because if any of them were gonna get out of this, he had to get back into the fray._

Sometimes, Gladio thought he saw traces of the old Noct. It was a faint shadow on a dull day but it was enough.

The Noct that was stupid enough to waste their last potion on him was maybe the same Noct that kept scrounging old, dusty bottles from the Citadel's wine cellar and presenting them to him. Gladio drank and drank and drank cause that made it easier. Easier when his vision was fuzzy. Easier than the horrible clarity of his memories. Today it was some vintage he knew the significance of once but his tastebuds were so dulled it might as well be vinegar.

Noct waited until he'd taken a few gulps and then gave him another gift. A handful of dogtags he poured onto the mat beside Gladio.

“They keep on coming,” he said. “I keep on knocking 'em down.”

Gladio choked down another few gulps of wine rather than respond. Sometimes, Noct made him kill the hunters himself. Sometimes, he hoped one of them would be Iris because even now, even like this, he knew he wouldn't be able to kill her. He hoped she was tough enough to kill him.

The entire Citadel was as dusty now as the wine cellar, save for the bits Ignis had obsessively went over. The throne room. His bedroom. The kitchens. They mostly stuck to separate wings. Ignis haunted the kitchens and dining areas. Prompto had the gardens. Gladio stuck around the training areas, though most of the time he just lay on the mats until he passed out. Those were the only spaces that weren't dusty. The shape of his body like a chalk outline. Sometimes, Noct got him up and made them all eat together. A carnival mirror version of the formal meals they would have had if Noct had reigned in the daylight.

Five tags.

How many hunters had Noct killed now? How many had Gladio killed? How many were left out there?

_The bussemands were down. Ignis and Noct were moving to flank the hobgoblins. Prompto was picking off the imps._

_The ground underneath them trembled and a red giant rose up from the earth._

_“Are we doomed?” Prompto said. “I'm pretty sure we're doomed.”_

Noct tugged at the bottle while Gladio was still trying to drain it. Rivulets of wine poured down the corners of his mouth.

“Gladio,” was all Noct had to say to get him to release his death-grip on it. Noct placed the bottle carefully on its base, within his eyeline. It was better to look at that than at the tags. Or at Noct. “Hey.” Noct touched his face, not using any kind of force, but Gladio turned it like he wanted him to. Looked into his eyes. Blue today.

“Noct...” He knew excuses didn't work. That was why he barely bothered to cover up anymore. Slipped whatever pair of sweatpants Ignis left lying around for him on and nothing else. “I stink.”

“As if Specs would let you stink.”

Gladio almost cracked. Almost got up and fought like he used to in the beginning. Cause Ignis regularly hauled him into the shower and turned the spray on. Peeled his lips back and brushed his teeth. Cut his fingernails and toenails. Washed his hair and tied it up. And didn't respond to anything, no matter how hard Gladio needled him, insulted him, screamed at him... And Noct sounded so fucking fond. Like he hadn't turned him into an automaton. Like he hadn't--

But whether he fought or not, the result was always the same. So he flopped onto his front, inhaling dust. Noct tried to pull his sweatpants down and tutted when he didn't lift his hips for him. Gladio turned his head, trying to focus on the wine bottle Noct had put just out of his reach. He eventually got the sweatpants down without Gladio's help, all stretched out and loose where he'd pulled them past the elastic limit. Kind of like his hole would be after Noct was finished with him. A laugh burbled up from somewhere, hitching and strange.

“Enjoying yourself down there?”

That struck him as funny too. He laughed until it hurt, his stomach muscles were slapping the mat every time they clenched and released. Maybe the lack of air would let him pass out and Noct could have his fun like that. Instead he got a lungful of dust and it turned into a coughing fit that Noct had to thump him on the back to stop.

“You should let Ignis clean up in here.”

Gladio reached for the bottle. Noct yanked his arm back. “Hey, hey. Not yet.” The light of the armiger was pale purple now, shading ever closer to red as time wore on. Lube. Noct always had lube in there. He must scavenge for it or else he'd have run out by now. Did he ever leave the Citadel for it?

Shit. That didn't matter. Prompto had run once. Got all the way to Galdin Quay. And he'd been dragged back by mindflayers. He was babbling when they dumped him back in the throne room, eyes wide and unseeing.

Yeah, there was no point. Running didn't work and fighting didn't either. He parted his legs.

_The red giant batted Noct with its sword, sent him flying. Gladio couldn't look. Didn't stop to see him land. He had to keep the giant off the others. They were shouting but the words were garbled in his ears. He didn't think anyone could take out a giant as fast as he did then. There were no daemons left by the time he turned around. But there was Noct, lying in the dirt and bleeding all over. Ignis ripping up any fabric he could find including his own shirt for bandages. Prompto putting pressure on the other wounds._

Noct was thorough. Prepping him until lube leaked onto his cheeks. He'd have preferred it the other way around, but there were a lot of things he'd have preferred. He didn't think he could muster the energy these days anyway. To fuck anyone. Let alone this Noct. Didn't really know how he'd managed to kick out the first few times Noct had taken him. And it was just as useless then. Gladio could kick down a solid oak door. Used to be able to. But Noct hadn't flinched whenever he'd managed to make contact. Noct's fingers inside him barely registered. Not even when the pads brushed over his sweet spot. The signal was there but there was nothing to receive it, his dick limp and his body slack.

“Condom?” he said. His voice was cracked. Maybe his vocal chords had atrophied along with everything else. Stupid. Weak. So fucking stupid and weak. He didn't want that stuff inside him. Didn't want to be a daemon even if he was nothing at all right now. He wasn't-- He didn't think he was turning but that was luck. And luck had to run out. Luck always ran out.

“How old is Iris now?”

Noct said it conversationally and it coulda been straight out of the past. Twenty-year-old Noct making small-talk because he liked Iris even he didn't crush on her the way she did on him. But just the mention of her had Gladio scrambling up, tucking his knees under himself, spreading his cheeks apart.

“Please. Please fuck me. Your majesty. Please. Come in me.”

He would probably have let Noct fuck him like this. Before. If he wanted to try it. Probably. Every now and then. But that Noct never asked. This one didn't ask either. But he also took.

“Sheesh. No need to beg,” Noct said, in a lazy drawl that sounded so much like him that Gladio wanted to take his hands off his ass and cover his ears.

_“He's still breathing,” Ignis said. “Get him to the car. Hurry.”_

Noct slid his cock into him and it just slotted in there like he'd been missing a part. Like he'd never been a shield. Just some fucked-up Rube Goldberg device. Noct's thrust rocked him forward, strength too big now for the body that contained it. In-out. Back-forward. Once Noct had a rhythm going he figured he didn't need to present himself anymore and pillowed his arms under his face, breathing into the dark, dusty space they created.

Sometimes, Noct demanded enthusiasm. He'd heard Ignis' and Prompto's noises no matter which floor of the Citadel he climbed to. But never from Gladio.

Noct was way too still in his arms. Breathing way too shallow. Lips blue.

Gladio wasn't sure why Noct wanted this anymore. In the beginning he at least got a show out of Gladio fighting back. Now? Maybe it was just habit. Like Gladio and the wine. Bottle to mouth. Cock to ass.

Noct was always so quiet when he did this. Not into porno moaning. Just the occasional little huffs or hums. Maybe Gladio could fall asleep. Wake up when Noct was done.

The grip on Gladio's hip turned bruising like he'd somehow heard what Gladio was considering. There were pin-pricks on his hips where Noct's nails had gotten sharper. The cock inside him swelled and he thrust harder, breaching Gladio deeper. There was the cloying smell of decay like rotted rose petals. The skin of Noct's thighs was almost the same as normal when they slapped against Gladio's. Just colder.

Gladio clenched down on the cock inside him. As hard as he could. Noct made a pleased noise, like a house cat gone feral. The claws on Gladio's hip retracted.

Gladio tamped down on the urge to kick and flail. He smothered his face in the mat, terrified he might catch a glimpse of what was behind him. It would be over soon. As long as he made it feel good.

A particularly deep thrust made the wine lurch back up Gladio's throat, bitter with bile. He swallowed. Clenched. Couldn't bring himself back to meet Noct. The claws were new. Every time, there was something new. He almost envied Ignis' blindness.

Noct bit into the back of his neck. Ignis had teeth marks the last time he'd showered Gladio, peeking out from his his collar and cuffs. Too deep for a human to have made. But the teeth that scraped over Gladio's skin were blunt.

Gladio's eyes itched. Weird how that was the most uncomfortable thing about this. His body had been conditioned for every type of roughness imaginable since he was ten-years-old but his eyes and the lining of his nose couldn't be trained. Fucking pollen had always gotten to him way more than the daemons. Here it was the dust.

Noct slammed into him again. Unsheathed his claws deep into Gladio's hips. The only time Noct moaned was when he came. This time, it was distorted. There was so much come Gladio could _feel_ it filling him up. Like his gullet when he upended bottles of wine into it. It leaked out of him when Noct pulled out, dripping down his thighs.

Noct petted the space between Gladio's bunched-together shoulder blades. No hint of claws now but Gladio stayed put, trembling with the effort of keeping his hips raised.

“I think I know where I can score some absinthe,” Noct said. “I'll bring you some next time.”

Seemed like he was expecting a response so Gladio choked out a “thanks.” He didn't move even when Noct placed the wine bottle beside him. He stayed for hours maybe? Minutes? With his ass in the air, leaking. Until he was sure Noct was gone. And reached for the bottle.

###

Ignis failed when he lied to himself.

_Ignis traded everything he could for curatives: his necklace, his spare dagger, everything Gladio and Prompto donated. He used the twenty hi-potions it garnered them on Noct successively, as Prompto drove them recklessly to the hospital in Lestallum. Noct's face was grey. His lips and fingertips were blue. Dying. He was dying._

_One of the wounds on his torso was already bulging with infection, seeping ichor. Ignis cut the remains of his T-shirt from him. He should have done it sooner. A single thread could have caused this. Then he sliced the wound open._

_It had festered supernaturally fast, hopefully the reverse would be true. Ignis cleaned it and cleaned it and cleaned it until all that flowed was blood. Blood that was almost black._

_Oxidised, he told himself. From exposure to the air._

Ignis remembered the Citadel so well he could almost see it. The contours of Noct's face, however, were not so familiar. His face no longer had the roundness he'd retained from his teenage years, his cheekbones and chin sharper. Sometimes there was stubble but today he as clean-shaven. Ignis ran his fingers over and over Noct's features until Noct held his wrists.

“Prompto threw his lunch at the wall again.”

Ignis sighed. “I shall clean it up and bring him another. Unless you've need of me now?”

“You're always needed, Iggy.”

Indeed. If it wasn't rousing Gladio enough to wash himself, it was cleaning up after Prompto's dozen acts of pointless rebellion a day. At least Noct's needs were baser and received with gratitude. “How would you like me?”

“Strip.”

Being robbed of his sight should also have taken the humiliation out of this. That it was Noct, too. Who he'd bathed with when they were children, changed with in the Crownsguard changing rooms, who had joked about the silly, revealing outfits from the Assassin's Festival with him. But Ignis still had to force the wilfulness out of his body. Made his rigid hands reach for his collar. Though it was rote by now, his fingers refused to cooperate. It took several tries to unbutton his shirt. When he'd finally gotten it open – one long inhale through the nose, one long exhale through the mouth, repeat once per button – Noct ran his hands up and down his bare chest. His palms were smoother than they had been, sword callouses healed over into new skin. Noct traced the edges of his musculature, humming approvingly when Ignis' stomach muscles jumped under his touch. He reached up and out, tracing the knottier muscles interwoven with scars around his ribs.

“I said strip.”

After a couple of false starts, Ignis got his hands moving again. He pushed the shirt and jacket from his shoulders. If Noct was getting impatient, there was no time to be neat. When Noct undressed him, he tended to tear things. He hurried through the rest of the process. Kicked off his shoes and socks. Let his trousers fall after he'd undone them.

Noct still ripped his underwear from his body.

“Noct.”

His hands were already grabbing and squeezing Ignis' buttocks, fingers digging deep into the muscle. His fingernails sliced at the skin. Ignis pictured cross-hatches across his rump from all the times before. He rammed Ignis into the kitchen counter, causing a clamour of the pots and pans Ignis had so carefully hung on the hooks above it. The hard edge bit into the top of his buttocks, another sting among many stings.

“ _Noct_.”

Noct growled low in his throat. The hairs on the back of Ignis' neck stood up even as his rational, non-animal brain assured him that he was in no more danger than before. Noct pulled Ignis' buttocks apart, still growling, and thumbed at Ignis' hole. Ignis knew that his face and chest were scarlet. A holdover from when things were different.

“Noct!”

“You're so hot, Iggy. I can't wait.”

“A few moments. Please.”

Noct removed himself from Ignis' personal space. For a while, Ignis could almost convince himself he was alone. Noct gave off no body heat, was as still and cold as the switched-off oven. He didn't breathe either; not the steady rhythm broken by sighs that Ignis remembered from the shared tents; nor the laboured hiccoughing breaths that Gladio made now; nor the racing, panicked ones that let Ignis identify Prompto. Air must have entered his lungs if only so he could speak but otherwise there was nothing.

Ignis bent over the counter and raised one leg onto it, trying not to think about the explicit view it gave Noct. He summoned his lubricant from the armiger – a glorified cupboard at this point. When he'd coated his fingers in as much as he needed, he pinched his chest to the counter and pressed his face flat against it. He couldn't tell where Noct was exactly but he'd be close enough to watch.

Ignis prepared himself with as little pomp and circumstance as possible and stayed there, slick and exposed.

“Tell me again,” Noct said, reaching over him to retrieve the lube.

“You're my first.” It was a lie but Noct seemed to derive some satisfaction from it. It might as well be true. All of his previous lovers were dead. Murdered by Niflheim. Murdered by daemons. Murdered by Noct.

“Can't believe no one got to do this before me.”

“I was rather busy.”

Noct's laugh hadn't changed. “Yeah. Not now, huh? All the time in the world.”

All of the time and none of the world. The position was debasing, awful, even if it wasn't physically uncomfortable for him. They had never shared this kind of intimacy before, although they'd shared practically every other kind. Ignis didn't know how Noct would have wanted him if they had. Shouldn't have tortured himself by imagining how it could have been. But he'd ran the gamut of shoulds and should nots these past few years. Foremost, Noct would have wanted his consent and Ignis would have given it. He would have given him anything. Willingly.

He couldn't imagine the Noct from before – _his_ Noct – wanting anyone like this.

This Noct wanted a harlot, eager and presenting every second of every day. So in love with the idea of getting fucked that they could endure beyond the limitations of their own stamina. This Noct fucked Ignis dozens of times in succession until he was barely holding onto consciousness. Trying to infect him with Starscourge, he presumed. Perhaps it was already working. Ignis could hardly check his reflection.

This Noct slid his lubed cock into Ignis so slowly it was almost gentle. At first he had tensed and clenched so hard Noct could barely dip inside him, Ignis' mind unable to overrule his body. Now he opened for him. A parody of his past encounters. Even felt the excitement and anticipation pool in his belly. He was achingly hard by the time he'd taken all of Noct.

Becoming the harlot this Noct needed him to be.

He rocked back into Noct's thrusts. “ _Yes, Iggy._ ” Ignis lifted himself onto tiptoe, changing the angle so that Noct's cock skimmed his prostate. His own pre-come slick cock slid over the counter's surface. It was disgusting, unhygienic, abhorrent, but on a purely biological level his body didn't care. Noct pounded him as skilfully as any of his past lovers and the Citadel offered so few pleasures these days. He might as well enjoy the orgasms.

Noct grabbed Ignis' arms and pulled, arching his back as far as it would go. “Fuck, Iggy. You're so flexible.”

It cracked some of the stiffness from his spine. Gave Noct the leverage to pound harder against his prostate. But it took the mobility from his arms while Noct's pistoning hips stole the mobility from his legs. He was _nothing_. A hole to be used. Advisor to the king of a dead world. Sightless. Useless. Empty.

He came hard, spilling against the kitchen counter.

“Nice,” Noct said.

Then he pressed him down into the pool of his own come, coating his spent cock and his stomach in it, and fucked him hard enough that Ignis' teeth rattled. Noct came at the apex of one thrust, announcing his orgasm with a couple of soft moans into the back of Ignis' neck.

The ends of Noct's hair trailed over Ignis' shoulders. His lips brushed the protrusion of the bone. For a moment, Ignis was overcome with how it could have been. Fruitless tears pricked at his eyes.

Noct didn't bother to pull out before he started thrusting again. His cock made obscene noises as it rammed into Ignis' come-filled hole. Ignis cringed into his shoulder, trying to blink his eyes dry. Noct had no refractory period these days. Unfortunately, Ignis still did and the bursts of sensation from his prostate crossed quickly into overstimulation. His cock tried to but didn't quite manage to get hard.

He wriggled, trying to ease it, trying to change the angle again. But Noct was chasing down another orgasm too intensely to pay much attention to anything other than the pleasure he could eke from him. When he did come again, come leaked from where they were joined. Dripped down between Ignis' cheeks.

Which, of course, was when Noct pulled out. Made more of a mess of him. Come slopped between his buttocks without a cock to push it back in. Ignis stayed bent over the counter. Noctis wouldn't be satisfied that easily and he liked to inspect Ignis while he was debauched.

“If the High Council could see you now.”

His tears served nothing but to make him more of a pathetic spectacle. A couple fell anyway. The High Council were dead, he reminded himself. And they'd been judgemental, rigid, boors who hadn't much cared for him when they were alive.

Noct dragged him onto the floor, on his back, and shoved his knees up to his chest.

“They were assholes.” Noct thrust into him again, gripping his legs tight. “They never took you seriously. Couldn't handle the idea that you could do all their jobs twice as well. If the Niffs hadn't taken them out, I'd have executed them.”

That was as close to kindness as Noct got these days. In a twisted sort of way, he thought this was a compliment. That being used was an enviable sign of the king's favour.

Ignis let his mind drift as Noct fucked him. Were the astrals watching what had become of their chosen king? Why didn't they intervene? Was there a new prophecy written into another bloodline? Or had they, like everything else, went to ruin?

Noct fucked him and fucked him and fucked him, pouring come into him. So much sometimes he worried his stomach would distend with it. But when he touched it, it was flat.

When Noct had him the fourth time, he held Ignis up by his hips, forcing Ignis to ride him. Ignis traced his fingers over Noct's. He wasn't wearing the ring and Ignis hadn't managed to find it despite several passes through the Citadel. 

“You think I'd put that thing on now I don't have to?”

It was a terribly obvious plan, so of course Noct knew what he was up to. Ignis didn't care. The moment he found it, he would wear it again because Noct – _his Noct_ – wouldn't want to be this. Wouldn't want to plunge his cock into Ignis so deeply his hips and thighs ached. Ignis would wear the ring and face the kings of old again. Burn up the last minute pieces of himself.

Noct let go of him and Ignis was so numb from repeated use he fell onto the kitchen tiles like a smashed coffee cup. Noct grunted somewhere above him and sprayed him with come from chin to thigh.

Ignis forced himself to stagger upward. To grab the dressing gown he'd learned to hang on the kitchen door and wrap it around himself. The fibres clung to the mess that Noct had left him in, a damp, sticky shroud. “Will that be all for this evening, Noct?”

“Yeah.” Ignis flinched as Noct's voice sounded right by his ear. “Make sure Prompto eats something and hose Gladio off again.”

“Yes, Noct.”

“That really how you're gonna respond to a royal decree?”

“My apologies.” He'd told Noct so many lies lately and they'd all rolled off his tongue. This one wedged in his throat. It came out like one of Noct's fishing hooks had yanked it from deep in his guts, swimming in bile. “Your Majesty.”

_Noct wasn't breathing when they rushed him into Lestallum General Hospital. Despite Ignis' frantic mouth-to-mouth in the car, and Gladio pumping his heart. He'd lost too much blood. The potions weren't enough. He'd stopped breathing and he wasn't starting again. The potions weren't enough. Nothing they'd done was enough._

_He was in Gladio's arms as he ran full pelt into the emergency room. Then on the bed the paramedics wheeled out for him._

_When they finally saw him again after hours of surgery, Noct looked... fine. The colour was back in his face and he was eating bright green jelly from a plastic cup._

_“Dude,” Prompto said. “Dude...” Unable to express anything else, he added another: “Dude.”_

_Gladio flicked Noct's forehead. “What the hell was that stunt with the potion, asshole?”_

_“Hey! I'm sick, remember? 'Sides it all worked out.” He gave them all the smile. The smile that he'd worn the first time Ignis had met him. The one that had all of the Insomnian magazines marketed at teenage girls in a tizzy over how “adorbs” it was. “Right, Specs?”_

_It was impossible that Noct could have recovered that quickly. That Noct could be sitting up and talking and not need so much as an intravenous drip. Impossible._

_But they routinely hung around ancient tombs so that Noctis could add another ancestral ghostly sword to his collection of ancestral ghostly swords, and a layman would say that was impossible too. What was impossible for everyone else wasn't so for the line of Lucis._

_“Indeed.”_

###

Prompto failed when he believed Noct.

_The thing was, Noct liked to sleep. Noct could drop right off in the middle of a conversation. He was always the first into the tent and the last one out. Except since he'd come out of the hospital. For the past week, when Prompto had gotten up to do his morning run, Noct had already been up. Up and functional. Which was unheard of for early morning Noct. And he was pacing around the edges of the haven. On the outside. Which Gladio would flip out about if he ever found out._

_“You okay there, Noct?”_

_“Great!” And Noct really, really sounded like he meant it, but Prompto had_ felt _his blood pouring out under his hands a few days ago._

_“You sure you shouldn't be resting?” He figured if he dangled the idea of sleeping in front of Noct, he'd go back to doing normal Noct stuff. “Like, you know, in bed.”_

_“Nah. I think it's like... You know those viral news articles where a woman gets pregnant, and it cures her long-term illness?”_

_“Aww, you expecting, bud? Gonna name the little guy after me?”_

_“Shut up. I feel great. Seriously. It's like – just one more thing had to go wrong to fix everything. My back doesn't even hurt. I wanna punch a behemoth right in the face.”_

_“Awesome! Wanna go for a run with me?”_

_“Hell no.”_

On bad days, Prompto thought it was Ardyn wearing Noct's face. On worse days, he knew it wasn't. In the spaces between Noct Prompto ran, he trained, he watered one the one tree that was left in the Citadel's gardens even though it was probably already dead at the roots. Plants needed sunlight. He wasn't a botanist or anything but he was pretty sure of that. Humans needed it too. For Vitamin D. Biology lessons were several lifetimes ago but that factoid would not leave him alone. It would serve Noct right if they all got rickets and all he had to fuck were weird bow-legged people with crazy skulls.

He laughed even though the image in his mind's eye of Ignis and Gladio wasn't funny. Like at all. He should just water his dead tree and try not to think about it. Or about how he'd thrown that plate of food at Noct that poor Ignis had made him, and he'd missed, and all Ignis had done was make him another one.

_Noct picked at his food. Which was normal Noct except fish was his favourite thing and this wasn't just regular fish, it was Iggy-approved fancy fish. And they'd only had protein bars and whatever Gladio could forage for their past few meals._

_“You've gotta be hungrier than that.”_

_Noct looked up sharply, like the time Prompto had caught him doodling Noctis Fleuret-Caelum in the margins of a notebook. Which was hella weird because Noct was a notorious picky eater and might decide he didn't like something just because it was Tuesday._

_“Are you nauseous?” Ignis said urgently, and reached to take Noct's temperature._

_Noct batted his hand away. “I'm fine, Specs. Like the last hundred times. Just daydreaming.”_

_“Stop dreaming,” Gladio said. “And eat your damn fish.”_

_After that, Noct did eat. But the way people on TV ate. Where it was fake food so you saw it being moved around the plate a lot but no one ever took a mouthful. The food was gone by the time the rest of them had cleared their plates so he must have eaten. Right?_

_Except he found the food the next time he went for a run. Dumped into the grass. It was all cut into little bite-sized pieces and in a state of profound grossness with all the bugs and stuff. And it reminded him of all the embarrassing stories Ignis had told about when they were kids and Noct had vanished veggies into the armiger, and Ignis would pull out daggers with little bits of spinach stuck to them._

_When Prompto brought it up, Noct just shrugged. “Had a crummy tummy. Don't tell Ignis. He's been on my case since the hospital.”_

_And Prompto just let it go because, well, whose guts were okay after two days of protein bars and stale water?_

“Hey,” Noct said, right behind him. “'Sup?”

Prompto swung the watering can at him. It was one of those old-fashioned metal ones and still half full, so it had some heft. Noct leaned out of its way all casual like Prompto had just given him a high five and he was doing the up high, down low, too slow thing. Prompto swung again with all his strength. Which was a lot now. He'd already been strong and fit but time had added a little bulk to his runner's arms. He couldn't arm-wrestle Gladio or anything but he looked like he lifted. Noct side-stepped it. Prompto kept swinging and Noct kept dodging. “Son of a bitch!” He swung again and just-missed, water spraying onto Noct's face, and why couldn't he just melt like a fucking pantomime villain? “You son of a bitch!”

Noct only had to flick the watering can and it flew out of Prompto's hands, cartwheeling until it hit an empty trellis. Prompto came at him with his bare fists.

“They gave you everything! Their whole lives!”

“They got exactly what they signed up for.” All the extra training, all the skills he'd picked up in the years of darkness, and Noct only had to hit him with the heel of his hand to send him reeling and stumbling, until he fell flat on his back. “They serve me. That's what they were born to do.”

“Not like this. Iggy–” Saying their names now was like blasphemy. Worse than calling Bahamut an asshole. Much worse. Cause now they all knew he was one. “You–” There were black veins spreading across Ignis' skin now, creeping up from his collar to his jaw. “Does he even know?”

“He'll be happier this way.”

Prompto got a handul of the dirt underneath him. “Happier?!”

Noct stooped down to reach for him and Prompto threw the dirt in his eyes. Scrambled up and ran while Noct was trying to wipe it out. Only stopped running when he got his hands on a rake. Noct only laughed, and it was _his_ laugh. Identical to the one he'd used when they play-fought as kids.

Prompto ran him through with the rake.

It was up to him now. Gladio and Ignis... They'd given up. They wouldn't do it even if they knew how. So it was up to him to stop Noct.

Noct peeled himself off the rake like a zombie in one of the stupid shows they used to watch in his apartment. He clicked his tongue at the new holes in his T-shirt. “Iggy's gonna have to darn that, you know.”

“Fuck you!” Prompto jabbed at him with the rake again but he just pulled it out of Prompto's hand and tossed it.

It was all up to him but Prompto could really use some help with the _how_ since Noct shrugged off everything including a full clip of bullets to the face. Maybe someone else was meant to have some big prophecy behind them but who the fuck was left? It wasn't Gladio, drowning himself in drink. It wasn't Ignis, doing his best to brainwash himself. And he hadn't seen another human in weeks.

“Prompto. When are you gonna learn?”

“When are you gonna learn that I'm not gonna learn?”

“Seriously? That your best comeback?”

He was gonna rip this thing's Noct mask off its fucking face. He launched himself at Noct like a couerl – extinct as of two days ago. Ignis kept telling him the exact dates and times whole species went extinct as if this whole place wasn't depressing enough. Noct let himself be tackled, laughing again when they landed tangled together. He gripped a hank of Prompto's hair and Prompto kneed him hard in the junk.

They used to “practise kissing” when they were sixteen. That's what they called their excuse to make out over and over again, both hard as hell and trying to hide it. They told themselves and each other it was so they didn't suck at it when they finally did manage to kiss girls. Then Ignis had almost walked in on them and they stopped. Never even mentioned it again.

“Do it,” Prompto said, as Noct tried to tug his head down again. “Do it and I'll bite your tongue off.”

It would only grow back. Noct didn't kiss him but he did hold him down. “I wonder,” he said, yanking Prompto's trousers down and pinning him there with one hand. “If dad knew how much it was messing with me.” Prompto tried to strangle him but he just ignored it. “Giving me a super hot shield, and then a super hot advisor, and seeing them grow extra hot every single day, while they all told me how I had to stay pure for whoever they decided to marry me to. And then your super hot self came out of nowhere–”

Prompto spat at him. It hit him right in the eye. Noct wiped it off with the back of his hand, then gave Prompto a slap that made his ears ring.

“– And I didn't care. I had my duty and it all worked out cause I was going to get Luna. But no, the gods wanted her too. They already took my dad, my kingdom, everything I was ever supposed to care about, but that wasn't enough for them. And they weren't gonna stop there. They wanted to take everything from me and then take me too. Now Gladio and Iggy will get what they gave their lives to, unlike before. I'll rule, like I was supposed to. And you'll find your place here.”

Fuck him and his monologue. “You sound like Ardyn.”

Prompto tried to kick out but Noct wasn't playing anymore. He flipped Prompto onto his front and lay on top of him, lips touching his ear as he spoke. “Ignis preps himself for me,” he said. “Sticks his fingers in his own ass and gets himself ready for me.”

“Shut up!” It's half because it's vile, making Ignis do that, and half because he can picture it. Which was exactly what Noct wanted. For him to picture it. And it made him half-hard despite himself. Cause yeah, Noct wasn't the only one who'd noticed the super hot thing, even if Iggy didn't seem to notice it himself. And Prompto's dick was fucked-up for being into the idea of any of it.

“I have to do it for Gladio. You wouldn't think it cause he's so big, but his ass is so tight--”

“Shut up!” Why the fuck? Prompto tried to kick up again, tried to do anything except lie there with his ass out and his pants around his ankles. “Shut up!” Noct planted his palm on Prompto's upper back and held him down like that, his lower back twinging as he tried to buck up against it.

“You could have them too.”

“What the fuck? No!”

“You think you're better than that?” Noct pushed two fingers into his ass, and he must've lubed them while Prompto was thrashing around in blind panic because they slid right in there. “You think I never heard you jacking it over them? Like that time you walked in on Iggy showering?”

It wasn't like that! It had been an accident and it had been mortifying for both of them. It wasn't like he'd shoved his hands down his pants right there and then. It had just... happened to cross his mind, the next time he had some alone time. At least, he thought he'd been alone. He didn't know Noct had heard.

“Don't lie and say you've never thought about fucking them.”

“Fuck you!” Noct used to know the difference between fantasy and reality. Noct used to know a lot of stuff he didn't know now. Noct crooked his fingers just right and Prompto grit his teeth against the noise he wanted to make.

“You can. Him or Gladio. Or both. I'll share.”

 _No. No. No._ How was this Noct? Offering him Gladio and Ignis like they were slices of pizza or something. Working his fingers into Prompto's ass and cranking him open no matter how hard he tried to push him out, until his body gave out and opened up enough for Noct to drag his hips up and shove his cock into him.

If he'd-- if he'd gotten the chance, Prompto could've grown to like the sensation. Maybe. Hell, a few years ago just the thought of Noct doing this to him would have had him shooting his load in two seconds flat. He'd traded blow jobs a few times with other hunters. Slept with a couple of girls. But he'd never got to do this properly. Never would now.

“Maybe you and Gladio could both fuck Ignis. That'd be hot. He still blushes, you know?”

“Stop it. Stop talking. Shut up! Just come and leave me the hell alone, you sick fucking freak!”

Noct laughed and curled his fingers around Prompto's cock. Which was hard. “Sick, am I?” He really did sound like Ardyn sometimes, no wonder Prompto's brain got confused. “You're the one getting off on the idea.” There was still lube on his palm, no friction when he stroked Prompto in fast, short rubs. “Bet you'd love a better look at Iggy's body. He keeps it covered up but he's like a supermodel porn star under all those layers. And he gets off every time. Just like you do.”

“Stop.”

He wasn't getting off on it. If Noct made him do that to Iggy, to Gladio, he didn't know how he'd be able to come back from it. His whole body went cold at the thought. But with a cock up his ass and a hand on his dick, he didn't not look into it. And if Noct made him hurt them, what the hell could he do about it?

“Or would you prefer Gladio?”

“No!”

Of course Noct didn't take that how it was meant. “Iggy then. I'll take him and then you and Gladio can have a turn, and I'll spread him for you so you can see your loads dripping out of his ass.”

Where the fuck had all this stuff come from? Noct was _shy_ about this stuff. Noct used to blush from head to toe just from kissing. There was no way Noct had ever watched the kind of hardcore stuff he was talking about now. And it was fucking horrific. Ignis would hate it, being on display like that. Would have murdered him just for thinking about it, if he hadn't been taken over by the not-rightness of this whole fucking place.

“Or maybe you and Gladio can fuck him together. He'd get off twice as quick with two fat cocks in his ass.”

That was the exact point Noct brought him off. Prompto cried out as his orgasm hit, wanting to scream and never stop. Tears streaked down his cheeks. Noct had taken and taken and taken from them. Hollowed out Ignis and Gladio. And he still wanted to make it all worse. Take the shambles he'd made of their friendship and smash it open, so they didn't even have each other.

Noct shoved his hand into Prompto's mouth and made him taste his own come. Kept pressing it against his mouth and nose until he got the hint and licked it clean. He tried not to breathe in or think about it, poking his tongue through Noct's fingers until it was all gone. Maybe he could keep him entertained enough here that he wouldn't get any ideas about Gladio or Ignis again.

He swallowed another pathetic noise as Noct finished inside him. Noct always did. But he wasn't getting the scourge. Like Ignis. Like Gladio. Maybe Noct could control it? And for some reason, he wanted Prompto normal and watching all of this sick shit go down. Noct pulled out of him and stopped holding him down.

Prompto flipped onto his back and tried to kick him in the face. “I hate you you! I fucking hate you and you'd hate you too. If you were you. Luna's lucky! Luna's lucky she died so she never had to see this!”

Noct slammed him back into the ground so hard it knocked the wind out of him and knocked his skull against one of the decorative paving stones. The face he saw when his vision had cleared had glowing yellow eyes, black scourge dripping from every part of Noct's face it could drip from.

“Go on, kill me. Do it. Fuck you!”

Noct ripped off the pants hobbling his ankles, held him down by his forearms, and shoved back inside him. Scourge dripped down onto his face and chest. Gods, was it inside him? Mixing with everything else Noct had put inside him?

What the hell did it even matter? A monster had been fucking him for years. Like he was gonna freak out just because it actually looked like one now.

“I hate you,” Prompto told it. “I'll stop you.”

_After everything they'd done to get to it, Prompto had kinda expected the crystal to be a lot more impressive. But it just looked like a big version of the ones that people on TV said promoted 'healing energies' and stuff. Whatever. The potions Noct had given him to heal all the bruises Ardyn left him with definitely worked. Maybe this crystal wasn't as sparkly as it could have been, but at least this one's healing energies were legit._

_“Looks kinda crappy, don't it?” Gladio said._

_“Shhh,” Ignis hissed, like the crystal might hear him._

_Crap. Maybe it could. Who knew with all this ancient glowy magic stuff? “How do we get it outta here? You gonna carry it, big guy? Noct, can you put it in the armiger? Or is that gonna rip time and space? If it's the time and space thing, you gotta tell us before you try it.”_

_“I dunno.” Noct approached the thing. “See you on the flip side, I guess.”_

_He touched the crystal. Just barely with his fingertips. And it cracked. Lines spreading out from the tips of each of his fingers._

_“What's happening?” Ignis said. “Noct?”_

_“Back off, Noct,” Gladio said, and made a grab for Noct's shoulder. “Might be a trap.”_

_The crystal let out a shockwave that sent them all reeling, struggling to keep their footing on the narrow gangway. Noct took the brunt of it, tumbling over and over himself until Gladio caught him._

_“It a fake?” Gladio asked._

_Noct shook his head. “It-- It rejected me.”_

_“Noct? Buddy?” The cracked crystal was glowing now, something like a lightning storm was clouding over its surface._

_“Try again,” Ignis said._

_Prompto was pretty sure he wouldn't have made that suggestion if he could actually see the crystal. How it looked ready to do some kinda crazy magic detonation._

_Another set of footsteps on the gangplank made them all turn. Then pull their weapons from the armiger._

_“Oh dear,” Ardyn said. “Oh dear, oh dear. And here I thought I was about to witness your ascension.” And then he laughed and laughed and laughed._

Noct was supposed to be the King of Light.

Noct failed.


End file.
